


You Took the Words Right Out Of My Mouth

by theRadioStarr



Series: Of Roses and Mountain Flowers [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash, OC shipping - Freeform, Original Character-centric, oc x oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRadioStarr/pseuds/theRadioStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie and Lupa are still waiting for the Conclave to begin, and all of the time spent reflecting upon herself has left Lupa with a burning confession. </p>
<p>Inspiration strikes, and Lupa can’t wait any longer. She only hopes that Evie will feel the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Took the Words Right Out Of My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xStephyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStephyG/gifts).



> I had a song inspiration for this piece - typing the story title into Youtube should bring up videos so you can listen to it, if you're unfamiliar with the song. 
> 
> Evie Trevelyan belongs to xStephyG. Lupa Lavellan is my own!
> 
> This story conceived and written by theRadioStarr.

Lupa rubbed her palms together in front of the small fire, letting a little lick of magic expand the flames as she put another piece of hard wood down into it. She shivered hard in the exposed valley, missing Romulus’ thick fur more than ever in that moment.

Her and Evie had moved camps - the Veil was too thin in this area for such large groups of mages. The weaker ones were being possessed in droves, and the loyalist mages, at least, decided it might be better to spread themselves out along the path up to the Temple.

Evie had suggested moving along to a campsite her new Templar friend, Ser Rikard (who was a rather dashing, green-eyed thing; they may or may not have joked about inviting him to one of their more  _heated_ goodnights) had found. The site in question was in a deep valley next to the thoroughly frozen river, and the frigid wind blew through mercilessly.

Lupa had come to trust the few familiar faces around this camp. Even the Templars were becoming trusted, proving themselves to be people, kind and generous and caring, looking only to keep the mages gathered safe from all manner of dangers. They spoke both disappointedly and bitterly about those of their Order who favoured the War, and promised to stand between those mages who wished protection and those who would cut them down.

The fire was too small again, the heavy piece of hard wood smothering the flames, and Lupa let her aura stretch to feed the flames until the wood could catch well enough. She was starting to notice the way her surroundings would respond to her aura: the way the snow would start to thaw and colour would come back up in the grass, how little wild mountain flowers would push their way up past the green canopy, reaching for the sun.

She smiled at one such flower that started to grow across the fire, its tiny petals a powdery blue, when Evie giggled, breaking through the relative quiet around them. Lupa turned to watch her: she had her back to Lupa, standing in front of Ser Rikard with a weathered wineskin in her hand some distance away. The Templar’s eyes were bright with mirth - or maybe infatuation, it was hard to tell at this distance - but he caught her watching from a distance, and made a small nod in her direction towards Evie. Evie turned around with a wide smile, and they both just watched Lupa for a few seconds before Evie waved her over.

Lupa just shook her head. They were having a good conversation it seemed, and she didn’t want to make it awkward. Evie’s smile turned warm and affectionate before she turned her back again. Lupa looked back out over the fire, and was greeted by a strange sight on the other side, barely within the fire’s sphere of light and warmth.

She carefully got up and padded over, a quiet sigh of surprise and awe escaping her. It was a tiny rose bush, its leaves already withering from the cold, but in the middle, reaching for the warmth from the fire, was one perfectly formed golden-petaled rose. Just like the one she had inked into Evie’s breast for her.

Lupa took only a moment to consider what she should do before pulling a small knife from her belt and cutting the flower off, stripping the thorns from the stem carefully and returning to her spot by the fire. 

Perhaps this was the sign she had been looking for.

She looked at Evie and Ser Rickard again for a few seconds: they didn’t seem to have seen her, and she breathed another sigh, this time in relief. She did a double-take when Evie let out a raucous, booming laugh. Ser Rikard was pale with shock, and then his face flushed vividly; he seemed to be stammering something out, and Evie smacked a palm kindly on his armoured shoulder before turning back and walking over to the fire where Lupa was standing.

She watched Ser Rikard shake his head slowly and rub the back of his neck as he finally retired to his own station.

“What was that about?” Lupa asked as Evie plunked down, a little unsteady, next to her.

“I invited him to join us sometime,” Evie winked, and then she caught sight of the flower in Lupa’s lap. Her eyes went wide, and she gestured with the now half empty wineskin at it. “What is that?”

Lupa raised an eyebrow at her and picked it up carefully, pinching it between her thumb and index finger delicately. She looked at Evie heatedly, and Evie’s eyebrows immediately shot up, a smirk stretching across her face. Lupa got up on her knees and used her free hand to push Evie back onto the ground gently while she climbed over top of her, straddling the top of her hips.

Lupa just stared at Evie underneath her for a couple of minutes, until the other woman was squirming under the weight of her gaze. Lupa had been biting her tongue for the last few days, but a realization had struck her, and if she didn’t let those three words out tonight, she thought she might burst out of her skin.

“On a cold winter night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the gold roses?” she asked, voice low and barely above a whisper.

Evie quirked a brow, but she played along. “Will she offer me her mouth?”

Lupa bent and stretched to kiss her almost chastely before answering. “Yes.”

“Will she offer me her teeth?”

Lupa was still bent over, and nibbled at her pulse, pulling a gasp from her lips. “Yes,” she whispered.

Evie put her hands on either side of Lupa’s face, pulling her up so they could look into each others’ eyes. “Will she offer me her jaws?”

“Yes.”

She took a hand away, and a slender hand pulled Lupa’s mouth open, putting just the tip of one finger between Lupa’s teeth. Lupa bit down gently on it and sucked as Evie asked her next question. “Will she offer me her hunger?”

Lupa let go of her finger, her mind reeling and stomach turning expectantly. “Yes.”

“Will she _starve_  without me?”

Lupa nodded desperately, her voice a plaintive plea. “Yes.”

“And does she love me?”

Lupa took a deep breath and swallowed thickly before answering. “Yes,” she whispered, almost croaked, the word too quiet for the weight of her admission.

Evie didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Again,” she demanded.

“ _Yes!_ ”

This time, Lupa cried it out, perhaps a little louder than she had intended, but Creators, she needed to tell her so badly. She held her breath, but Evie glowed

beneath her, and she let her breath go in a rush at the other woman’s response.

“Yes.”

Lupa swallowed thickly again. “On a cold winter night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the gold roses?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she answered simply.

Lupa dragged the flower petals across Evie’s racing pulse, and smirked widely in her relief. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Evie laughed then, the sparkling shine of unshed tears in her eyes. “Come here, you,” she murmured before crashing their lips together, tongued tangling and lips tingling. When they finally surfaced, she carefully took the rose from Lupa’s hand and tossed it aside, her hands finding the sides of Lupa’s face again.

“I love you, too.”

They said no more but each others’ names as they tenderly proved just how much they loved each other in front of the roaring fire, the rest of the camp and the world beyond their circle of light and warmth forgotten.


End file.
